Several days passed by in this manner. Although Zhang Wuji had gone through many books and memorised numerous principles and prescriptions, he was too young and ill-educated to fully understand everything that he had read.
Then, the sixth day of his arrival in Butterfly Valley dawned. Hu Qingniu had told them that Chang Yuchun's injuries had to be treated within seven days, or he would lose all his martial arts abilities even if his life was saved. The man had been sprawled on the grass for six days and six nights … and it suddenly started to rain. Yet, Hu Qingniu was as cold as ever, turning a blind eye to Chang Yuchun and the muddy puddle that had begun to take shape around him. Zhang Wuji became very angry, thinking: All the medical books that I have read, except those that you have written yourself, state that the physician must have a benevolent heart that seeks to bring benefit to mankind. What is the use of having all these skills when you ignore the dying? What sort of 'able physician' are you?
That night, the rain fell even heavier. As lightning flashed and thunder roared, Zhang Wuji gritted his teeth in determination and thought: I will have to give it a shot, even if it ends up making Brother Chang's injuries worse. He took eight gold needles from Hu Qingniu's cupboard, walked over to Chang Yuchun and said, "Brother Chang, I spent the past few days reading as many of Mr Hu's medical books as I could. Although I do not understand everything, your treatment can no longer be delayed. Therefore, I am going to take a dangerous risk and try some acupuncture on you. If an unfortunate mishap occurs, I will not carry on living myself."
Chang Yuchun laughed and replied, "What are you talking about? Hurry up and poke me with the needles. If I survive, we can seize the opportunity to embarrass my Uncle Hu. If I die because of two or three needles, it would still be much better than suffering in this muddy puddle!"
Zhang Wuji's hands shook as he touched the Kai Yuan (Kai1 Yuan2) acupoint on Chang Yuchun's body and proceeded to push a thin gold needle into it. He had never practised acupunture before, so he just copied what he had seen Hu Qingniu do in the past few days. Unfortunately, the physician's needles were so fine and pliable that they could not be used by anyone without a substantial level of internal strength. Unaware of this, Zhang Wuji exerted external strength on the needle, causing it bend without entering Chang Yuchun's flesh. The boy had not choice but to pull it out and try again. Acupunture done right would never draw blood, but Zhang Wuji was so unschooled in its practice that blood started spurting out of Chang Yuchun's Kai Yuan acupoint. Located in the abdomen, it was one of the vital points of the body. Thus, the sight of the gushing blood threw Zhang Wuji into a panic at once.
Suddenly, someone laughed loudly behind him. The boy turned around and saw Hu Qingniu standing with his hands behind his back, watching his desperate attempts to stem the flow of the blood with a smirk on his face. Zhang Wuji said, "Mr Hu, Brother Chang's Kai Yuan acupoint is bleeding profusely. What should I do?"
"I know exactly what must be done," answered Hu Qingniu, "but why should I tell you?"
Lost of ideas, the boy replied, "We will make a one-for-one exchange right now. Please rescue Brother Chang quickly, and I will die before you in his place."
"I have said before that I will not treat him," said Hu Qingniu coldly, "so, I will not! I am only a man who ignores the dying, not the Ghost of Non-Permanence (Wu2 Chang2 Gui3) that drags people to their doom, so what benefit does your death give me? I will not rescue one Chang Yuchun even if ten Zhang Wuji die in his place."
Knowing that it was just a waste of precious time to argue with the stubborn physician, Zhang Wuji began looking for a solution. The gold needles were too soft for his use, but there were no other types of needles available. After a moment's thought, he broke a length of bamboo and used a small knife to whittle it down into several toothpick-like slivers. Then, he inserted the slivers into Chang Yuchun's Zi Gong, Zhong Ting, Guan Yuan and Tian Chi acupoints. Although these bamboo slivers were a lot stiffer than the gold needles, they were still pliable enough not to draw blood upon entry to the various acupoints. Moments later, Chang Yuchun threw up several large mouthfuls of dark-coloured blood.
Zhang Wuji did not know whether Chang Yuchun's reaction was caused by a worsening of his injuries, or the success of his bamboo "needles" in expelling the clots that had formed in the man's blood. Turning around, the boy found that Hu Qingniu still regarded him with disdain, but a hint of approval had also appeared on his scornful face. Finally assured that his treatment had not been wrong, he rushed indoors, looked up some medical books and wrote up a prescription for his patient. Although he had learnt from the books that certain herbs could cure certain ailments, he did not have any idea what the dried rhizome of Rehmannia (sheng1 di4), the root of the Chinese Thorowax (chai2 hu2), Achyranthes root (niu2 xi1) and the gall of bear (xiong2 dan3) were. Yet, he turned to one of the pages and said as confidently as he could, "Please decoct a portion of medicinal soup according to this prescription."
The page took the prescription, showed it to Hu Qingniu and asked if it was all right to go ahead. The physician sneered and said, "What a joke! What a joke! Go ahead and make the soup. If he does not die drinking it, there will no longer be any dead people on earth."
Zhang Wuji grabbed the prescription immediately and reduced the amount of each herb used by half. Then, the page began decocting the medicine, until a single bowl of soup was produced. Bringing the thick and pungent brew to Chang Yuchun's mouth, Zhang Wuji held back his tears and said, "Brother Chang, I really do not know whether this bowl of medicine will do you good or harm … "
"Wonderful, wonderful!" said Chang Yuchun with a laugh. "This is what I call 'the sightless physician curing the blind horse'." Closing his eyes, he threw his head back and gulped down every single drop in the bowl.
That night, Chang Yuchun felt as if a million knives were slicing through his abdomen. He also kept threwing up mouthfuls of blood. Zhang Wuji stayed by his side all night, braving thunder, lightning and rain to look after his friend. When morning finally arrived, the rain stopped. Chang Yuchun's vomitting became less frequent and the volume of blood that he threw up decreased. The colour of blood also changed gradually from dark to purple to red.
"Little Brother, your medicine did not kill me at all," said Chang Yuchun in delight. "In fact, I think my injuries are beginning to get better."
"My prescription worked?" asked Zhang Wuji, hardly daring to believe his eyes and ears.
Chang Yuchun laughed and said, "My late father must have known that something like this would happen, so he named me 'Chang Yuchun' – Frequent, Meet, Spring – so that I will frequently meet with great masters like you, who will put a miraculous spring back in my dying steps. But I must say that your prescription was rather heavy-handed. My stomach felt as if it was being pierced by dozens of knives after drinking the brew."
"Yes, yes," Zhang Wuji responded. "I guess I overdid it a bit."
It turned out that the dosage was not just a bit more than usual. In fact, it was several times higher than what was normally required. Furthermore, no adjuvants were used to make the medicine more friendly on the stomach, so the thick brew had set about working its terribly strong cure as soon as it was ingested. Although Zhang Wuji had found the correct herbs for his friend's injuries from Hu Qingniu's books, he did not have a single clue about the 'Master-Servant-Assistant-Messenger' principle that guided the use of herbs. If Chang Yuchun's body had not been unusually strong, he would have died from the concoction.